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Post by Marcus O'Terra on Nov 21, 2015 12:55:55 GMT -5
Three Hills
Spaceport, west docking pad.
9;12 PM Local Time
"And that's the vessel, Miss Mira." Marcus mixed formality with the companion's first name. "Like I told you at the Shuttle, we can set the Cortex link to either be a 'child' to the main vessel, or it's own independent link." He motioned to the communication console on the bridge. He'd taken the companion and Jay on the tour, and shown them the in's and outs of the vessel.
It hadn't taken too long, and both could likely find their way through the ship in an emergency.
"I imagine you'll prefer your own link, for privacy's sake if nothing else?" He continued. "But we'll need you to log it in as your own private link from here for that." One of the habits of being a hermit was that you read up on just about everything random. That included What To Do When Your Ship's Hosting a Companion, and What Not To Say At a Shindig.
He did a double take when he saw a blinking light on the comm. "Hold that thought." He sat down and when he say the caller name, he smiled as he turned to Jay and Mira.
"Mira, I need to take this, so maybe you could help Jay pick out which of the crew berths he'd like for himself?"
He sat down at the comm console and pulled on a headset with closed headphones. If Morse asked, he'd just say the console mic wasn't tuned for feedback.
So he hit 'Answer'
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Post by Bishop Morse on Nov 21, 2015 13:13:17 GMT -5
Upon the screen appeared Morse. A man that many on the ship would recognize, but who few actually knew. He did not look different at all. Still wearing the same darkened coat, still having the same stringy blonde hair, still wearing his smug satisfied expression.
There was only one real difference to him, and that was where he sat. The call was not coming from the bridge of a ship, nor was it coming from some down town cortex call box.
Instead Morse was sitting in a very nice room, with clearly a great deal of work put into it. A wood paneled office that was clearly quite expensive. And anyone that had known the circumstances before, would know that he was sitting in what was once the office of Sebastian Longstreet.
”That took a long time.” Morse mentioned, noting the time on the cortex call. He had the called several minutes earlier with no response. ”I remember when people would pick up within the second they realized a call was coming from this address.”
Those days were gone. The criminal empire of Longstreet was fracturing, and those that remained were simply trying to keep it together.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on Nov 21, 2015 13:32:59 GMT -5
Morse's sass was immediate and Marcus could tell more was coming.
"It doesn't help I wasn't actually on the bridge until a moment ago." Marcus sat straight in the chair. "Though when you said you'd scrounge up some work for me, I should have expected it." He took out a pad and pen, something he'd started doing to organize his thoughts and keep things off digital, hackable, interfaces.
There was a time Marcus might have made some smart remark, that he thought would have come off as funny, but would have been unconscious ass kissing. One good thing about the slag yards, he'd learned to shut up again.
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Post by Bishop Morse on Nov 21, 2015 20:23:47 GMT -5
Morse shrugged and inhaled. He seemed to not have any real stress, but his generally snide attitude was somewhat diminished by the fact that he was trying to hold some things together. And even Marcus should have been able to surmise the irony in Morse offering work to him, someone who he often mocked as being not nearly as capable as his crew had been years before.
”Next time I’ll just have you call me back.” Morse dismissed with a flick of his eyebrows.
He sat up a bit in the chair, and seemed to look over data that was listed on the Cortex Screen. ”I see your on Three Hills, which is convenient.” Morse mentioned. ”The fact that I can see that means you haven’t disabled the transponder on this new ship of yours. Might want to fix that.”
Whether Morse was giving friendly advice or lording himself as the superior spacer was uncertain.
”But as it happens that is very close to Regina, where an associate of ours has left a rather important package.” Morse cut immediately to the chase. ”I need your people to retrieve it, and get it to him on New Canaan.”
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Post by Mira Walker on Nov 22, 2015 0:11:37 GMT -5
Mira follows Marcus and Jay onto the ship she begins to look around and takes a deep breath in. This was going to be home, she began to drift off and then shook herself back to the conversation that Marcus was having with her. Her eyes turned back to him and she began to smile, with a little nod.
"I am sure we will come up with something that will be both fitting and sufficient for the both of us." She reached out and touched his shoulder. Her pink little tongue ran along her lower lip and she said softly "Thank you, Marcus, for everything."
She watched Marcus look to the light and she stopped speaking, watching him turn back to her and say,
"Mira, I need to take this, so maybe you could help Jay pick out which of the crew berths he'd like for himself?"
She smiled at him and nodded, watching Marcus turn to go answer the comm, she turned her attention to Jay and cleared her throat.
"So I guess it's just you and me huh?" She smiled at him and began to play with her bracelets. She watched him waiting for him to answer, She couldn't help but nibble her lip a little. "It's not a bad place right?" She smiled again and she waved a little hand around. "Where do you think you will be sleeping?" She leaned against the wall, Her placement was going for aloof, but she knew he could tell she was slightly nervous. Still trying to figure all of this out.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on Nov 22, 2015 1:51:52 GMT -5
Marcus leaned back in his seat. The Transponder had been a bit of tech he wasn't comfortable messing with while he was floating in the black. Not without someone who actually knew tech, or machines at least, well enough to splice it out. Something to do before takeoff, he put on the list.
"New Canaan." The rock still hadn't been fully Terraformed, and with all the work being done to rectify that there was plenty of trade, legal and not, going through it. "By way of Regina." Marcus repeated as his fingers wrote in shorthand.
"What're the specs of the package and where on that dustball do I pick it up?" Marcus figured the boiler plate talk would chew some time. Time. If time were important Morse would probably grouse about it.
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Post by Bishop Morse on Nov 22, 2015 4:49:59 GMT -5
Morse did not appear to have anything to say about concerns that Marcus had at that point. Their history together would have told Marcus he was unconcerned. Instead he simply continued to answer the question.
”Specs are simple enough.” Morse said tapping on a small sensory pad in front of him. On Marcus screen there appeared the image of a gray crate. It was seemed fairly reinforced and on the exterior it had the words “Sensitive Materials – Handle with Care” written upon the side.
”Just a pair of gray boxes, about yea big.” Morse spread his arms out about four feet. ”They’ll be light, and easy to move. Hell, I think he only needs the one, so you may get a bonus if you manage to get out with two.”
Without mentioning the contents of the boxes, Morse moved onto the location.
”The where is… just a little more complicated.” Morse added with a slight pause. ”They’re sitting in a private shipping outpost, Venju Transit Center.” Morse looked up after reading it off. ”Just some trade and shipping outpost. People send or pick up their mail and trade goods there that get shuttled off to where or from where ever.” Morse waved his hand. ”They’ll be located in a ceiled storage cell at the back of the building.” He added. ”Should be easy enough of a pick up, so long as you beat the acquiring party that it’s meant for. But they aren’t expected for another week or so.”
Morse reached over and grabbed what looked like a thin cigar puffing red smoke. He puffed on it for a second, and reached to put it back down. He said nothing about pay or where they were sending it to, but waited knowing there were more questions to follow.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on Nov 22, 2015 7:30:34 GMT -5
"Venju Transit Center." Marcus wrote down. "Any idea who does their security?" The size of the crates was... small. Really small. What could be in there that was fragile but still that valuable. Earth-that-was Relics? Maybe if he 'only' managed to get the one, he might find a better buyer for the other. Might even be specialized parts for some high end terr-form kit. He saved the file and sent it to a smart paper printer networked in his office berth.
No. Don't go planning on screwing over the buyer just yet. You're getting back into the game you damn bastard. Marcus smiled at the idea all the same.
"No reason to think they won't show up earlier;" Marcus jotted down: 'Expect Company' in his notes. "So where on Canaan am I setting down, and how much should I expect when I get there?" He threw a look outside the bridge, he saw something move out there. It might have been a truck or one of the other's coming back with their effects.
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Post by Bishop Morse on Nov 22, 2015 12:20:58 GMT -5
Marcus question got a shrug from Morse. ”Centex Security,” Morse answered reading off more information from his own console. ”They’re a local firm, no real reputation to speak of other then being somewhat popular where they are. But dealing with outlaw idiots on horseback trying to steal some mail is a bit less of challenge then your group will be I’m assuming.” Morse caught himself a moment and looked to his right. ”Then again I don’t know. I haven’t really seen your people work, and I don’t know anything about your new ship.”
”Well, these packages arrived at the station early. And the geniuses that run this post handle only so many calls at a time, so as far as I know, they won’t be showing up any time soon.” Morse was rather condescending when it came to most things, but the years he’d had success doing such jobs, whether it be because he was in the right place at the right time, or just had a talent was irrelevant to him.
Then of course came the issue of payment, which was always the much touchy part of any conversation. ”I’ll send you the coordinates now.” Morse said, sending off the location. It looked to be a supply outpost on New Canaan, air tight, and not for anything other then having Terraformers come and pick up spare parts and get things repaired. But from the look of it, it was fairly run down. ”Man you’ll be looking for his named Nickels. He’s a bit on the… eccentric side, but he’s harmless…ish.” Morse kept adding addendums as he thought of better ways to describe him.
”As for payment… well that can go a few ways.” Morse noted. ”I don’t imagine your or any of your people have a bank account we can send this into directly, so I can just have them money sent to him so he can hand it to you upon completion.”
He then leaned back in the chair. ”For the precise amount. I’m thinking… 1200 credits… unless you want it platinum, in which case I could go higher.” Morse offered that knowing that the value of platinum was completely relative. The more the alliance exerted control the fewer people accepted platinum. One day platinum would be worthless, and but for the moment the exchange rate was good, with the exception of knowing that one day in the not so distant future the money would be worthless.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on Nov 22, 2015 12:44:23 GMT -5
Marcus wrote down the name of the Security firm. With a little research he'd figure a way around them. People showing up in a ship hosting a registered Companion, hm. Should he tell Morse this? Not yet. Let Mira get comfortable, sign a lease agreement, and see how she liked flying with 'interesting' people. As for the coordinates and the pick up contact, 'Nickels' Marcus could only wonder if it was a shorthand of Nicolas, or a nickname with odder origins. It could go either way.
"I'll Take it in credits." He wrote the number down. Plat was fine on the edges, but if he was going to be working the borderline, cash money was better than coin.
He had the target, its location, potential obstacles, the timeline, the drop off, the bag man, and the payment. "Okay, I don't think I'm missing anything for this." He looked back at Morse. "I'll make sure my transponder's cut before I head out to Regina. Wave you when I'm done." His hand hovered over the end call button, but he waited to see if Morse had anything else to say.
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Post by Bishop Morse on Nov 22, 2015 13:34:24 GMT -5
Morse nodded. ”If you come into any trouble, let me know.” Morse requested. ”I won’t be able to help you, but it’s always good to know which birds are flying and which ones are in cages.” Morse smiled at his own joke.
Morse nodded once more. ”Let me know when you’re heading towards New Canaan, so I can let them know you’re on your way.”
That was all Morse had to say. ”Have a trip.” Morse picked the cigar back up and cut off the communication.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on Nov 26, 2015 9:50:16 GMT -5
Marcus cut his end of the comm link and took his notes in hand. It wouldn't be difficult spinning the facts of the job into half-truths to avoid alerting Mira of the full criminal nature of the enterprise.
Some cargo has arrived early at a shipping post in Regina, and rather than just sit for a week before it get's picked up. We've been contracted to collect it and carry it forward.
That was all factual, it was non-specific as to if the ownership of the cargo was at risk, it wasn't. It was certainly going to be in their possession and certainly going to this chap.
He walked out of the bridge and down the hall, He could here voices talking down the way, so it might be that Rina had gotten back, or maybe Mira and Jay were just chatting it up.
Or Both.
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Post by Jay Fuller on Dec 2, 2015 0:29:04 GMT -5
Jay hadn’t spoken much on the tour, he was scoping things out. He admitted, while not as big, he liked the layout a bit better. He scoped out the different rooms – eight. He tried to count in his head to see if there were eight people that would be joining them. There wasn’t, he was sure. Which he then began plotting which room he could convert into the medbay. As Marcus left, Mira turned to Jay and spoke, “So I guess it’s just you and me huh? It’s not a bad place right? Where do you think you will be sleeping?” She bit her lip, fiddled with her bracelets, leaned on the wall. She was very fidgety.
Jay smiled, “Just us. You know, it’s pretty nice.” He put his hands on his hips and looked around, “I was thinking about taking one of the rooms between the lounge and engine room, for a little added privacy. Maybe even converting one to a med bay so we don’t have to stick it in the kitchen or something,” he chuckled.
“What about you? Any idea where you wanna stake your claim?”
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Post by Jace Cisco on Dec 12, 2015 0:38:15 GMT -5
Jace stumbled into the cargo bay, having just arrived by... how did he get here? Jace had to ponder that as he stood slumped against the metal frame. "Why did he pick a ship that has floors that aren't level!" he spoke out annoyed at his stumbling. The floors obviously were level just his over doing it with the drinks caused a severe loss of reality. He had got so excited about being back in the black he hadn't watched his alcohol intake.
Jace looked up out of his stupor when he heard the familiar voice of Jay speaking, and the unfamiliar one of a girl. Growling to himself he knew it had to be that Companion on this ship. Following the sound of the voices he caught the last trails of a conversation when he found Jay. Greeting Jay and resting against a lighted alcove, Jace closed his eyes and prayed when he awoke he would be alive, but the pain growing in his head told him he was going to regret this evening.
[tag: Jay]
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